Anhydrous Wit

Are you pondering what I'm pondering?

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

I Scream; You Scream

When someone finally snaps and slaughters his or her (although it's usually his) coworkers, it is called "going postal" because overtaxed mailmen used to be the prevalent offenders. I always thought that, if anyone should take out as many innocent bystanders as possible before offing himself, it should be the ice cream man.

I could sing for you right now the tune played by Mr. Softee trucks, and I haven't seen one of them since I left New Jersey. That's how ingrained the song is in my psyche. Once, Garrison Keillor's A Prairie Home Companion did a bit where his road-trip sound effects man, Fred Newman, whistled the Mr. Softee tune. I was rolling, but I bet a good part of the listeners were going, "Huh?"

The tune used by ice cream trucks in Las Cruces is "Turkey in the Straw". It is a catchy tune often used in cartoons, and even if you aren't familiar with the name, you're sure to recognize the melody. When my irrigation class was installing the landscape at a Habitat for Humanity site this spring, we were in the neighborhood twice a week for three weeks at the same time as the ice cream truck. My classmates and I were aggravated to no end as the ice cream man drove around and around the neighborhood -- but never down the street where we were working. Then again, if he had, he might have ended up with a shovel through his windshield.

Do ice cream men get tested when they apply for the job? "Okay, sir, the next part of your interview involves you sitting in a chair, listening to ‘Turkey in the Straw' for six hours." If he survives, he's hired. Sure, the Mr. Softee tune was catchy, but that's because he drove through our neighborhood for a few minutes then left. I didn't have to hear it repeated all afternoon and evening. If I were driving the truck, I'd go bananas, maybe even crash into a telephone pole -- on purpose.

1 Comments:

At 8:23 PM, July 24, 2007 , Blogger Betty said...

Aaargh. One of those ice cream trucks sat somewhere in the trailer park I used to live in for nearly an hour once... I couldn't see it, but I could hear it. "Turkey in the Straw" over and over and over... And I can thus certify, based on first-hand experience, that even that much exposure is enough to make one homicidal. You know what a nice, peaceful person I am, but I was ready to slaughter the ice cream man, the children, all of the workers at the factor that made the loudspeaker... everybody.

Mr. Softee is pleasant by comparison. And I can still hum it, too.

 

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